


Kinsmen To Kinsmen Should Be True

by Naril



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Again, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brothers, F/M, Family Feels, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, Maybe OOC, Maybe you wouldn't have died?, Sad with a Happy Ending, Siblings, Single dad erik, Uhtred is an idiot, Uncle Sigefrid, bad-ass Aelfwynn, kind of, maybe try that Erik?, protective Sigefrid, they talked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22702849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naril/pseuds/Naril
Summary: Plot Bunny One-shot:Alfred takes a bit longer to send Uhtred and Aethelred to Beamfleot. That gives Erik time to talk to his brother about a pretty big predicament. Sigefrid is not impressed but with everything between them in the open, maybe things would have turned out differently? Because brothers should be brothers and family is family.Fair warning, though, it's still sad. There is no living happily ever after here either.A different sort of sad to the show at least but sad nonetheless. Hopefully, it is bittersweet.
Relationships: Aethelflaed Lady of Mercia/Erik Thurgilson, Erik Thurgilson & Sigefrid Thurgilson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	Kinsmen To Kinsmen Should Be True

**Author's Note:**

> UNCLE SIGEFRID happened!!! (Sabby left a comment on one of my other Aethelrik fics and the plot bunny went away with me. I’m sorry it is not the happy ending you imagined. Maybe I’ll manage to write pure fluff one day)

“What do you think you’re doing?” The gruff but familiar voice made her look up with guileless eyes. 

“Nothing.” She chirped, meeting her uncle’s dark, threatening scowl with the most innocent of looks. 

He narrowed his eyes. “Were you trying to sneak on my ship?” 

“No…” She could not hold his gaze, looking down. 

In an instant, she was thrown over a broad shoulder clad in fur and squealing. “No, no, I promise, I wasn’t! Let me down, Uncle Sig! No!” 

“Little girls who won’t listen get thrown in the fjord.” He declared, shaking her and only making her scream in joy even as she tried to wiggle free from the playful grip. At the end of the jetty, he stopped and made as if to really throw her in the waters. 

“What is going on here?” Her father’s quiet voice made her cringe a little. She was not meant to be here, after all, in fact, she was meant to be in bed. 

“That is what I asked, brother. Seems I nearly had a stowaway.” Sigefrid turned but still held his niece dangling from his back, his one remaining hand keeping her safely over his shoulder. It meant she could not see her father’s expression. 

“I want to go with uncle, fadi*.” She still admitted from her upside-down position. “I want to see where mama’s home is.” 

There was silence and her uncle stiffened before setting her back down in front of him. He turned her away from where her father stood so she only caught a glimpse of his clenched fists and pained posture. 

“Listen, little one. England, it is a place of rain and bad memories. I am going to the Mediterranean where it is warm and there is gold to find. When you are older and command your own ships perhaps you may go.” 

“But I am Viking.” She whined, looking past him to see her father watch them with that unreadable expression he got sometimes. “We are Viking.”

Her father crouched down then, holding out a hand for her. “Alfhild**. Come here.” He said and she slipped past her uncle, to stand in front of him, letting him search her eyes. “You will be Viking. But for a few more seasons you need to stay behind and train so that you can become a leader of men, you understand?” 

“But…” 

“No but.” His big hand came up to cup her cheek. “You won’t find your mama in England. I know you don’t remember her, but she was stubborn and strong just like you and she would want you to be stronger, as strong as can be before you go join the raids.” 

“But you’re staying behind because of me.” 

“Yes, and I’m doing it gladly.” He pulled her closer, conspiratorially. “And someone has to undo the damage your uncle’s presence already did to this place over the winter.” 

Behind her, uncle Sigefrid made an indignant sound but her father only grinned in his direction before focusing back on her. “I’m staying behind because with your mama gone, you are the most precious thing in my life and I would not be parted from you. You’ll be commanding your own fleet soon enough, give your old father some time with you.” 

“If you’re old, fadi, what does that make uncle Sig?” 

He laughed. “Ancient.” He said loudly, just to be sure his brother would hear.

“I’ll give you ancient!” Sigefrid harrumphed. 

***  
__

_“You were right.” Erik looked harried as he sat across from him._

_“I often am.” Though he did not know what it was that he was right about. “What happened?”_

_“Sigefrid, I cannot let her go.” It was a plea, his brother’s eyes wide and desperate. “She’s carrying my child.”_

_He blinked, dumbfounded. “You’re certain?” He had asked about this before, all he had gotten were jokes in return._

_He knew his brother though. If Erik had fathered a child he would want to claim it._

_“Yes. The midwife confirmed it.”_

_They were still waiting for envoys, Sigefrid having refused again and again to send their own to demand their price. They were to come to them, begging and entreating like dogs, not the other way around. So far they had not and now this!_

_“I cannot give her up.”_

_He flipped the table before he knew it, plates and tankards clattering to the floor._

_Erik barely dodged the punch he threw at him. “Brother…”_

_“You’re meant to be the clever one!!” He snarled, swinging again. “I promised the men riches and silver! We did!”_

_This time his fist connected, snapping his brother’s head to the side and when he turned back, his brow was bleeding. “They will not ransom her now that she has obviously been touched.” He confessed quietly, not fighting him but simply taking his anger._

_“Did she tell you that?” Sigefrid snorted, stalking back to the table and groping for any ale that might have been spared from his rage, a cup or tankard that had not spilled entirely. “Then we wait till she gives birth and you keep the damn child!”_

_“No.”_

_He looked over his shoulder at his brother standing there defiantly. “No?”_

_“No.” Erik swallowed but stood his ground at the threatening glare that made almost anyone else cower from him. He had never before had reason to direct it at his own brother. “I will marry her.”_

_Rage used up for the moment simply because this situation was too alien for him to comprehend, Sigefrid could only blink again. “What about her weaselly Christian husband?”_

_“I don’t care.”_

_His eyes widened. “You don’t care, do you?! The men will care when the silver they were promised is lost because you have lost your mind.”_

_“I love her.”_

_His hackles rose again. Instead of punching his brother again, tempting though it was, he grabbed the nearest piece of wreckage from the table and hurled it at the wall, cursing all the while._

_When he turned, Erik still stood fast, as if waiting for him to calm down. He could not even find the words to ask how he thought this madness would work._

_Shaking his head, Sigefrid picked up a stool from where it had fallen and sat, taking a deep long inhale. “What do you expect me to do, brother?” It was an incredulous chuckle because this was absurd._

_“I want to take her home with me.”_

_“To Norroway?”_

_His brother nodded._

_“And she’ll let you? Alfred’s daughter?” It still had not sunk in, the thought laughable really._

_There was no sign of any doubt in his brother’s posture. “Yes. It was she who asked me to take her away.” His eyes shifted, grew sad. “She had a small shiv hidden in her cell, Sigefrid. She was planning to use it on herself before the ransom got paid.”_

_That, too, was not something he had expected. “What?” How had she gotten her hands on something like that? Had they underestimated her so much?_

_Erik nodded, utter pain in his expression. “She only told me once she was sure of her pregnancy. She was… she said she lost that way out now.”_

_“She can’t love you that much then.” He noted, making his brother flinch. “Seems like she used you to entertain herself until her death.”_

_This time it was Erik who grew angry, though he fought to control it, only taking two swift steps towards him before stopping himself from lashing out. “She does love me or else she’d have used the knife, even carrying my child as she is.”_

_Sigefrid cast a glance towards the ceiling and rolled his eyes. He should have known that one day his brother’s soft heart would get them both killed._

_“In Northumbria, I bargained for your life. Now I ask you this.”_

_That, he thought, was uncalled for. The memory still festered and the pulsing in his stump reminded him of his lack of a sword-hand. His brother knew this, invoking the last time he had chosen to disobey him, to save his life._

_He should not need to. They were brothers in blood and arms, yet he felt the need to call on his honour as a warrior for a life debt. When had their trust in each other failed so much?_

_Sigefrid grit his teeth, tried for the sake of his brother to wrap his head around the changed situation. “You’re asking me to give up a king’s crown for you.” He nonetheless noted._

_Looking far too meek for the warlord that he was, his brother could not meet his gaze. “I am.”_

_He blew out a long breath, the future shattering in front of him, in front of them both._

_Erik stepped closer, daring to come within range even going so far as to put a hand on his shoulder._

_“For family, brother, please.”_

***

“Raise your shield more.” Sigefrid gave the wooden edge of it a knock with the dagger strapped to his arm. “Your arms may tire, your enemy will not.” 

Alfhild nodded, adjusting her stance and went through the drills again. 

“And watch your targets.” He added, pointing them out on himself. “You are little, you need to aim higher.” 

“I won’t stay little.” She pouted, thrusting her short training sword towards him and he did her the favour of parrying the blow. 

“No, but a warrior must know their own limitations. Right now, you are little, right now, you need to aim higher.” He bound her blade with his, testing her grip by flinging it to the side. 

Almost immediately she came back at him, shield raised now and the cut aimed at his elbow. It was not perfect but better. She was a quick learner. 

“Dagfinn says we’ll visit Dunholm for Midsummer? All of us?” 

Sigefrid tapped her on the head with his dagger, she had dropped her guard and he would not have any of that. It may still feel like playing to her, but his niece would know how to defend herself if he had anything to do with it. 

“The Earl Ragnar invited us, yes.” He made a face at the thought that the man’s brother Uhtred would probably be there too. A large part of him still wanted revenge for his hand, but his brother had convinced him there were more important things. 

Alfhild’s smile was bright. “So I get to go to England?” 

They had considered leaving her behind, but he himself had argued with his brother that at her age, they too had been allowed on shorter journeys, to learn to love the sea and how to read Rán's ever-changing moods. 

“Not England. Danelaw.” It should be a safe enough trip, only a few days at sea. Of course, Erik was worried nonetheless. He always feared for his daughter but if her attempt to sneak on-board for the spring raids had shown one thing, it was that holding her back would only encourage her more. 

She shrugged like it was the same thing. “Why does it make fadi so sad?” 

“I guess it reminds him of your mother.” There would be no teaching her anything else today, Sigefrid could sense it. He held out his hand for the shield that hung from her hand, almost forgotten. 

“You know, I do remember her a little.” She said as she handed it over. “She was warm and strong and she would sing to me.” 

“Yes. She’d sing a lot.” He remembered the besotted look his brother had had when his Saxon wife had sung a song Dagfinn of all people had taught her in the hall. 

And it was true that in the first year after they had brought her to Norroway, she had indeed grown strong, insisting that she learn how to fight, how to wield a weapon. He had been surprised when she had shown them that she already knew some sword skills. Erik had once again fallen even deeper in love with her for it. 

Alfhild turned wide blue eyes up at him. “How did she die?” 

“Has he never told you?” It was not his place. He had barely tolerated the girl initially, still angry that their plans would be sacrificed just for her. 

“I don’t want to ask. It makes him sad too.” 

Sigefrid grimaced. It had been almost four years but he was not sure his brother would ever get over it in this lifetime. “Maybe you should. Besides, I wasn’t there.” 

In fact, he had come back a few weeks later to find his brother a broken man with a little toddler clinging to him at all hours of the day. When he had lost his hand, Erik had been there for him, so he took it upon himself to pay back that debt. 

The rest of the year he stayed, doing an Earl’s work because his brother nearly drowned in his grief and left one day, to take his daughter to a small farmstead near Kjerag for the winter. It was a struggle, usually, these things had been Erik’s work and he had to relearn skills he had forgotten or never bothered with. 

Organising the harvest, ruling on disputes and dealing with petitioners were things he had avoided for a long time, either because he had left it to his brother or they had been gone on raids and wars. 

"You are a warlord, lord." Dagfinn had snickered when he had complained after too much ale between them. "Peace does not become you." 

And he was right. There were many times when he had wanted to just take his ship and the men and leave, but then he had thought of his brother in that little hut he had retreated to with his daughter and how he wished to be there when he finally returned. 

Eventually, Erik had come back. The plump woman who had been employed as Alfhild's nurse had ridden in the cart with the child who had grown in those months and Erik had been walking alongside it. 

He had been a little thinner, beard a little longer and generally a little unkempt but he had hugged his brother and a surprised Dagfinn too and somewhere up in the mountains he had apparently made his peace. 

Admittedly, he was still quieter, more likely to retreat into the background during feasts and nothing was more important to him than the little girl who, though she had his colouring, looked to grow into the very image of her mother. 

He had stayed behind when the raids had started that year and then the next one, Alfhild had been sick with a fever and Sigefrid had looked at him and with an eye-roll told him to stay again, lest in their absence someone might decide to attack their prospering bit of land. 

This year, neither of them had even pretended that it would not be Dagfinn leading the ships alongside Sigefrid, while Erik improved on their fortifications with other men who for one reason or another did not participate in the raids. 

***

“You made me bring my daughter to a war council, not a celebration.” Erik sat in the seat across Ragnar’s, cup in hand and directing an accusing look at him. 

The other had the decency to look a little sheepish. “How else was I to tempt you back from Norroway? And she can play with my children. They are always eager for new playmates.” 

“What you propose,” Erik gestured at the other warlords present, “you know it will not succeed, don’t you? An alliance between five of us is bound to break before ever we face any Saxons in the field.” 

“Six of us.” Ragnar pointed out, grabbing himself another handful of dried fruit. “Uhtred is with us too.” 

Making a contemplative sound, he did look to the warrior who was still a little pale but appeared utterly charmed by Alfhild’s curiosity for his sword. There was almost an aching expression on his drawn features as he explained to her the amber that made the pommel of the weapon so entrancing. 

“He does not look well.” He noted quietly, though Ragnar heard him easily enough. 

He nodded. “He was near death when his men brought him here. And Alfred banished him, keeping him from his children.” 

“We heard, and his wife…” He trailed off because he could understand the pain of that far too well. 

Ragnar only looked at him. “Perhaps you should speak to him.” He suggested gravely. “Remind him that the pain does not last forever.” 

With a rueful smile, Erik turned back to him. “Oh, it does.” He said and took a drink at finding his throat too dry. “It never goes away.” 

“But it does get easier.” 

“No, you simply learn to go on living. And if Alfred is keeping his children from him, I suppose he may see little reason to.” He shrugged. “Which is probably why he is joining this harebrained scheme of yours.” 

“So you are not with us?” 

He shrugged again. “I will counsel my brother against it.” 

“Why?” Ragnar looked honestly crestfallen.

“Because you are expecting the Saxons to fall apart when Alfred dies and I know his son will be an equally strong opponent, if less experienced.” 

For a moment Ragnar studied him closely. “What else did she share with you?”

He glared. 

Throwing up his hands as if to say he had meant no offense, Ragnar tried to smile at him apologetically. “I’m sorry. I am simply curious.” 

“You are trying to gather information.” He corrected him, perhaps a touch too curtly. “And what little I may be able to offer is out of date. Almost seven years*** out of date.” 

Before the other man could offer another attempt at pacifying him or think of anything else to say, he got back up, putting his cup down and went over to where his daughter was still bothering Uhtred, who was looking more and more pained. 

“Leave the poor man some air to breathe, Alfhild.” He interrupted the stream of excited questions she had been in the middle of. 

Alfhild threw herself at him, still too excited to really pay attention to what he had said. “Lord Uhtred says I look like mama when she was little.” 

The smile he tried for died on his lips. “Does he?” 

“Yes, did you know he knew her since she was little?” 

He lifted her so she sat on his hip and she happily wrapped her thin arms around his neck. Not much longer and she would be too big for that. “I did.” 

“But he says my hair is more like yours, and my eyes too.” She continued before yawning widely. Despite the excitement, sleepiness was slowly winning out. 

This time he did manage to smile at her and tweaked her nose. “Find your nurse and to bed with you.” 

She made some half-hearted protests but in the end, rubbed her eyes and did as told. 

Uhtred watched her run off with a raw expression. “How old is she now?” He asked a little wonderingly. 

Making himself comfortable beside him on the bench, Erik too watched as Alfhild was taken up the stairs to the guest chambers. “She’ll be seven next spring.” 

The two men shared a glance, one full of unspoken grief but also camaraderie. “I was sorry to hear about Gisela.” Erik told him quietly. 

“And so was she and I when word reached us about Aethelflaed.” Uhtred did not look at him, eyes glazed over with some memory or other. 

Erik nodded, not trusting his voice and they sat in silence a little longer, watching the feasting with some detachment from their little spot in the corner. 

“The child,” he eventually found himself asking, “it lived?” 

The Saxon warrior nodded as well. “A boy.” He rasped and they lapsed back into silence again. 

“She wanted one.” Erik managed after a while. “She wanted to give me a son so desperately. I think it must have been some Christian pride?” 

Uhtred shrugged. “I imagine her previous husband would have wanted nothing but a son and heir.” 

Shaking his head, Erik emptied the new cup of ale he had been handed by a passing server. “I was happy. We had our daughter. It was so hard on her, that birth. I - I was terrified I might lose her then too and yet she wanted to give me more children. Even with the herb-wife offering to help her take measures for her own sake.” 

“It is because she loved you.” Uhtred told him, a hand going to his shoulder to squeeze. “She wanted to carry your children and she wanted to give you more than one.” 

“I loved her anyway.” He protested sadly. “I would have loved her even if she had come to Beamfleot already carrying Aethelred’s child. I would have loved her if after Alfhild we never had another, if only it meant that she was still by my side.” 

Uhred shrugged. “Destiny is all.” He whispered but it sounded empty and unconvincing. 

“Will you really betray your oath?” Erik asked. 

The warrior shrugged. “Alfred has banished me. There is no reason to remain loyal to a man who scorns me.”

“And this plan? You believe it will work?” 

Another shrug. 

Erik thought he had never seen the man so diminished. He looked around, took in Bloodhair who was more mad bear than man, Haesten who lurked in the background, trying to avoid both him and his brother. Cnut was at Ragnar’s side, his eyes though, were fixed on Brida as she walked between the tables, laughing with the men. 

Sigefrid when he met his gaze looked at him questioningly but did not come to join them, likely because he still had not forgiven Uhtred for his hand. A look passed between them. Something about this venture already tasted rank and they could both see it. 

“You and your brother need to watch your backs.” He said as he turned back to Uhtred. “There will be bloodshed between the lot of you.” 

“You are not joining us then?” There was a glimpse of a spark returning to the Saxon warrior’s eyes. 

“No.” Erik told him. “My brother and I can both see a doomed alliance when we look at it. Even a man such as Ragnar will not be able to hold all these men together. Besides, look around. There is too little land for too many warlords.”

Uhtred frowned. “Have you lost your appetite for war?” 

Smirking at him, he turned to face him better. “I have not. When you have all mauled each other to death like hungry wolves, we will be back to take the winnings.” 

“Like carrion.” Uhtred grunted. 

“Like ravens.” He corrected. “Clever and patient. I may still hear my Viking blood sing at the idea of conquests, but I also will not throw my life away for nothing.”

“Is that what you think I’m doing?” 

“Where are your children, Uhtred, where are your heirs?” Erik pressed instead of answering. “Would your Gisela have wanted you to run North and leave the newborn she gave her life for behind, with the man who banished you?” 

“You are a father first.” It was almost an accusation, an insult but it did not hide the very real hurt behind the words. 

“And you are not? Are your children not your legacy, are they not worth more than honour and glory on the field?”

Uhtred hesitated and he snorted, shaking his head. “I told you once that I would always respect you, Uhtred, because I believed you to be an honourable man. This,” he gestured around them, “is not that man.” 

“And what would you do, in my stead?” 

*** __

_Dawn broke slowly over the sea. The coast in the distance shrank away and with it Sigefrid’s dreams of a crown. They had taken only a third of their ships, leaving with their most loyal men in the middle of the night._

_Dagfinn was manning the steering oar. He had warned them that Haesten was spreading distrust amongst the men already and so they had not dallied even another day._

_Their hoard was not small but nowhere near the promised riches and had been brought on board in a rush while Haesten had been away scouting for envoys. Even if King Alfred had sent negotiators, after all, they would find Beamfleot almost emptied, the thing they were looking for long gone._

_He looked to his brother, sitting at the stern with his arms protectively around the princess, who looked pale and perhaps even a little green but when she caught his eyes, there was a challenge in hers._

_He sneered but she did not seem cowed, instead pushed to her feet, the fur Erik had wrapped her in to smuggle her out of Beamfleot pooling like a rich cloak around her, fit for a queen. He had to admit, she was regal in her bearing as she approached, even on the rocking planks of the ship._

_“We have not had the chance to speak, Earl Sigefrid.” She addressed him in a firm voice but quiet enough so his men would not overhear._

_He gave her an expectant look, noting vaguely from the corner of his eyes that his brother was watching them both but had remained seated._

_“I know you do not trust me and think that I have tricked your brother.” It was a matter of fact statement, plain and honest. “I cannot hope to convince you otherwise, but I wish to thank you nonetheless.”_

_“None of this is for you.” He growled lowly. It was clever of her to confront him like this, where it would undermine their purpose if he lost his temper at her. “I am doing this for my brother.”_

_***_

**Author's Note:**

> ***I messed with time here but the show does too, constantly. Alfhild is older here and Aethelflaed died before she was barely two, also the war council at Dunholm happens in the summer because there is no way I can see Erik bring Alfhild with him during the winter. Plus, as far as I remember, raiding usually took place in the summer and it's late and I don't care anymore.
> 
> (*Fadi from Old Norse faðir - I’m no academic, but I’m sure that kids would shorten this like German: Vater -> Vati and interestingly papa is a known babble word in MANY languages specifically Scandinavian and German, so I thought of just using that but instead went for this mostly because Old Norse = yay)
> 
> **Alfhild means elf battle… Shout-out to Lauredessine because they used this name first I think! 
> 
> Alfhild is a Viking war-lady with her own fleet mostly filled with female warriors… I’m pretty sure that’s what Alfwynn would have turned into if she’d grown up with her dad and his brother still around)


End file.
